Their Last Full Measure

by Christopher Nuttall

  But then, Hameeda asked herself, what sane person would be?

  She launched her third and final drone, providing the admiral with one last update. He’d scrambled desperately to put together a handful of assault pods - they were lucky the Tokomak hadn’t put up much of a fight as they nosed their way towards the final assault - but he hadn’t been able to find enough to guarantee success. Now, the final wave of assault pods materialised, launching their missiles into a badly-damaged alien defence network. Hameeda smiled, coldly, as the Tokomak were battered into uselessness. They’d ceded the gravity point now. They’d just have to hope they could rally their fleet before Admiral Teller built up the forces to destroy the remaining fortresses and push onwards to Tokomak Prime itself.

  The LinkShip rotated in space, then dropped into FTL, racing towards the planet. There appeared to be a battle going on, although it was hard to tell. The gravity point was unusually close to Tokomak Prime - the majority of gravity points tended to be considerably further from the system primary - but it wasn’t close enough for real-time data. She braced herself as the timer ticked down to zero and the LinkShip dropped back into real space, passive sensors reaching out for data. Her head filled with icons, a massive blur of light that threatened to give her a headache before the tactical analysis subroutines started to impose order. Admiral Stuart’s fleet was pushing against the planet and the Tokomak were resisting, fighting back on a scale Hameeda would have thought impossible. The entire planet appeared to be fighting back.

  Piece coughed. “Who’s winning?”

  “I can’t tell,” Hameeda said. Her tactical subroutines ran projections, but it looked as if there was no clear winner. Not yet. The winner might be the one with a handful of starships left, when the loser had been completely obliterated. And, if Admiral Stuart won, she might not be able to punch through what remained of the planetary defences and the entire war would stalemate. “It could go either way.”

  She opened a channel to Admiral Stuart, to let her know that Admiral Teller had arrived. She’d have to wait for orders, then convey them back to Admiral Teller ... she told herself, firmly, that Admiral Teller could arrive in time to make a difference. Even if Admiral Stuart lost, the Tokomak would be so badly weakened that Admiral Teller could smash whatever was left of their defences. But she knew, better than most, just how little ammunition remained. The battle could still go either way.

  ***

  Neola cursed under her breath as the reports from courier boats flowed into the display. The humans and their allies had launched a mad assault, trading thousands of ships - mostly old and useless, part of her noted - to take the gravity point. The fortresses simply hadn’t been prepared for an assault on such a scale, an assault where the attackers were willing to clamber over their own bodies to get at the defenders. She remembered the history records of similar assaults, mounted back in the era before FTL, and shuddered. It would be hard to find crewmen willing to throw their lives away to clear the way. The humans truly were a barbaric race!

  She forced herself to consider the implications as her staffers hastily reorganised the fleet, again. The command links to the fortresses and the rings were down, although that wasn’t a major problem. Not now. The real problem lay in her fragmenting command datanet, combined with the humans constantly knocking it down whenever they spotted a command ship. They seemed to have an uncanny gift for deducing which ship was serving as a relay vessel and blowing it out of space ... no, she realised coldly, they didn’t have a gift. They’d simply read the tactical manuals, which dictated how command ships were to be protected, and adapted their tactics to match. The cynical side of her mind noted the humans had probably spent more time studying the tactical manuals than many of her own officers. Who needed tactics when you wielded the biggest stick in the known galaxy?

  But we don’t any longer, she thought. She still thought she could win, but ... there were two human fleets now. And even if she beat both of them, the Tokomak would be so badly weakened that the other Galactics would have no trouble battering them into submission. And ... an alert flashed as a stray missile struck an orbital habitat, blasting it and its inhabitants into dust. We could win this battle and still lose the war.

  “Your Majesty, the second human fleet is deploying around the gravity point,” an aide said, grimly. “They’re bringing ships through at a terrifying rate ...”

  “I can see that,” Neola snapped. She glared at the unfortunate officer until he looked away, then turned her attention to the display. She had to defeat the first fleet before the second could intervene. The humans weren’t gods. No matter how many risks they were prepared to take, there were hard limits on how many ships they could bring through the gravity point before the battle was over. “Signal the fleet ...”

  New alerts flashed up on the display. The second ring - the second planetary ring her people had constructed - had taken a hit. A chain of explosions ran through the structure, shattering parts of the ring and sending chunks of debris flying. The orbital defences hastily retargeted themselves, trying to blast the larger pieces before they could fall from the skies and hit the ground. Neola shuddered, trying to comprehend just how many people had been killed. The ring was so large that even a massive explosion hadn’t been enough to destroy it, but ... there had been billions of people on the ring. They might all be dead.

  I have to win this battle quickly, she thought. A piece of debris hit the planet, splashing down in the ocean and sending tidal waves washing in all directions. It looked so ... harmless on the display. It was impossible to accept, emotionally, that giant waves would drown hundreds of cities and towns, killing millions upon millions of innocent people. I have to win before they kill us all.

  “Signal the fleet,” she ordered. “The battleline will close the range.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  ***

  Hoshiko barely had a second to acknowledge Admiral Teller’s arrival, even if he was on the gravity point, before the hammer struck the planetary ring. She watched in horror as it threatened to disintegrate, feeling oddly relieved when the explosions stalled before they could march all around the ring ... and the planet itself. The ring looked like a donut, one someone had taken a bite from and then put back around the planet, but ... pieces of junk fell on the planet below, despite the best efforts of the planetary defences. She tried not to think about how many people - both Tokomak and their slaves - had just been killed. They hadn’t stood a chance.

  Unless they were in shelters, she told herself. They won’t have been sunning themselves, will they?

  “Admiral,” Yolanda said. “The alien fleet is increasing speed.”

  Hoshiko sucked in her breath as the range started to close. That wasn’t good. Her FTL sensors had tracked courier boats moving between the planet and the gravity point. The enemy commander knew Admiral Teller had arrived, which meant ... Hoshiko guessed the enemy commander had decided to try to take her out before the two fleets could converge into an irresistible force. The update from Admiral Teller suggested he was short on everything from missiles to spare parts, but the Tokomak didn’t know it. Or so she hoped.

  “Hold us here,” she ordered. She was tempted to try to open the range, but she was running short on missiles too. “Let them come to us.”

  “Aye, Admiral,” Yolanda said.

  “And send a signal to Admiral Teller,” Hoshiko continued. “He’s to advance upon the planet as quickly as possible.”

  “Aye, Admiral.”

  Hoshiko nodded as the alien fleet rapidly converged on her ships. The Tokomak had taken a beating - she’d destroyed or disabled nearly half their fleet - but they still had thousands of starships left, firing missiles and energy weapons as the range closed sharply. It was a giant monster, a fleet so large that the individual icons seemed to blur into a single deadly entity. She found it hard to comprehend how it could even exist, even though she’d commanded a fleet that was almost as large. The Tokomak seemed perfectly
capable of soaking up all the damage she did to them and carrying on, until they were in a position to crush her.

  A long-range duel works in our favour, until we run out of missiles, she thought, numbly. They’re forcing us to engage them at point-blank range or not engage them at all.

  She felt grim dismay as both sides switched to rapid fire, hurling missiles into the teeth of enemy defences that had no time to prepare for them. Losses wouldn’t be quite even - her ECM and decoys were still spoofing hundreds of missiles away from their targets - but the Tokomak might still come out ahead. And, as long as they kept their gravity well projectors online, Hoshiko couldn’t even retreat. She was trapped in a deadly embrace, an embrace that would end with one side completely destroyed and the other having no more than one or two ships left. And there was no way out.

  Admiral Teller will finish the job, she thought, as the lead elements started to exchange phaser and plasma fire. And he’ll push through and take the planet.

  It wasn’t much, she knew. But it was all she had.

  ***

  Hameeda watched in awe and horror as the two fleets converged, her sensors barely capable of tracking individual ships amidst the surges of energy as they started to exchange fire. The Tokomak were forcing their way into point-blank range, energy weapon arrays that had never fired a shot in anger powering up and blasting wave after wave of fire at the human ships. She wanted to do something - anything - to help her comrades, but nothing came to mind. The LinkShip had no place in a clash of the titans. She couldn’t do anything.

  The orders flared up in her mind. She was almost relieved to have an excuse to leave, even though she felt as if she was betraying her fellows by carrying out her orders. She’d tell Admiral Teller what to do, then rush back to the battle. Who knew? Perhaps she’d have a chance to do something, after all.

  ***

  Neola braced herself as a spread of missiles struck her ship, the blasts battering away at her shields and threatening to tear them down. The range was closing sharply - she’d already watched a human ship torn apart by massed energy weapons fire - but it wasn’t enough. It really wasn’t enough. Her formations were being shattered and scattered, hastily put back together in time to have them shattered again. There was no time to insist on new tactics, let alone drill her crews in them. The humans were adaptable and her people were ... not.

  Her display updated, sounding the alert. Human starships were rushing towards the planet in FTL, a steady stream of reinforcements coming from the gravity point. Despair overwhelmed her as she realised she’d lost, that there was no way to keep from losing the fleet and the planet. She struggled to think of something - anything - but she’d run out of tricks. She couldn’t even turn off the gravity wells! By the time the shadows faded away, allowing her ships to run, it would be too late.

  The refrain haunted her. Too late, too late, too late ...

  She cursed, again, as another missile struck the ship. Laser beams drilled into her hull. Alarms rang through the hull as damage control teams struggled to make hasty repairs, too late. Neola knew, with a certainty she couldn’t ignore, that her time was up. There was no way to escape, no way to even get to the lifepods before it was too late. A human cruiser rolled out of formation as her remaining energy weapons pounded its shields, but ... it was too late. Two human ships were taking aim, their weapons digging into her hull ... she saw more and more alerts flash up as her ship died. It just wasn’t enough.

  The humans will tear everything apart, she thought, wishing - with a bitterness that surprised her - that she’d killed the oldsters while she had a chance. They’d hung around for too long, ensuring her race could no longer adapt to new challenges. At least I won’t live to see it ...

  There was a flash of white light, then nothing.

  ***

  “Admiral,” Yolanda said. “The enemy fleet is disintegrating.”

  Hoshiko nodded, slowly. The enemy ships, those that had survived, were scattering, some fleeing in all directions while others were deactivating their shields and trying to surrender. She marked them down for attention, hoping they weren’t playing dead. They’d get a lot of people - mainly their own people - killed if they were. And beyond them, the planet itself seemed unsure of what to do. She felt a stab of pity, mingled with a grim awareness they had to end the war now. The Tokomak could not be allowed to recover their strength.

  If there’s anything left, she mused. Between us, we took the war right to the heart of their territory.

  “Signal the planet,” she ordered, as the final enemy ships surrendered or ran. “Inform them that it is time to discuss surrender.”

  She let out a long breath as she slumped into her chair, heedless of who might be watching. The battle was over ... the battle was over and she’d won. And, between the two fleets, they had more than enough firepower to bring the planet to heel. It was over.

  Yeah, her thoughts mocked her. Or perhaps it’s only just begun.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Steve didn’t rise as the two Tokomak were shown into the makeshift conference room.

  It was hard to tell - it was always hard to read emotion on alien faces - but they looked stunned, too stunned to comprehend what had happened. They were clearly not experienced soldiers, or politicians who’d had to fight for their positions. The battle had ended over two days ago and yet they seemed unable to understand what had happened to their homeworld. They’d been so astonished that they hadn’t raised any real objection to the marines quietly securing the remaining orbital fortresses. Their homeworld was naked under human guns.

  “Greetings,” he said. He would have preferred to speak Solarian - English, with a number of loanwords from other human and alien languages - but he was fairly sure that neither of the aliens would speak anything other than Galactic One. The advantages of rubbing their noses in their defeat would be lost if they couldn’t understand him. “Please. Take a seat.”

  The lead alien eyed him warily. He’d been one-third of a semi-authorised triumvirate, according to the xenospecialists. He’d managed to snatch power - or at least some power - from the Empress, who’d died in battle against the human hordes. Steve suspected he should be relieved. Post-battle analysis suggested the engagement had been terrifyingly even, with luck more than good judgement determining who would come out ahead. The Empress hadn’t made any technological innovations - even now, Tokomak R&D was deader than their empire - but she’d made more than enough tactical innovations to make up for it. Now she was safely dead, Steve could even admire her. Who knew what she could have become if her race had been a little more flexible?

  And we shouldn’t start feeling pity for the defeated until they really cannot hurt us anymore, he reminded himself. He’d had ancestors who’d fought in the Indian Wars. They’d hated and feared their enemies, savages who scalped, raped and killed their captives. The myth of the noble savage hadn’t been born until the Native Americans had been crushed beyond all hope of recovery. The Tokomak haven’t lost anything.

  “I speak for my people,” the lead alien said. “I ...”

  Steve cut him off. “The war is over. You have lost. Your empire is in revolt, your former allies have deserted you and entire sectors have slipped out of contact. All that remains, now, is to wind things up in an orderly manner.”

  He paused, just long enough for his words to sink in. “If you accept our terms, we will be able to handle the post-war situation and then withdraw back to our homeworld. If you refuse to accept, we will do whatever we have to do to convince you to accept - or, if you refuse to see reason, to ensure that you never pose a threat to us or anyone else ever again. We don’t want to see you dead, or reduced to just another race of scavengers, but we do want to make sure you cannot threaten us again.

  “Our terms are not negotiable. Take them or we will do whatever we have to do to compel you to take them.”

  The word hung in the air for a long chilling moment. “First, you will concede that you
have lost control of all systems and settlements outside your original core worlds. You will no longer wield any form of political control over those systems and formally acknowledge their independence. You will also cede any industrial nodes, planetary defences or anything else you might have constructed in those systems, as partial compensation for how you exploited them over the course of empire. If those planetary governments choose to expel any of your civilians who currently live on those worlds, you will provide a home for them here.”

  “We paid for those facilities,” the second Tokomak insisted.

  Steve ignored him. “Second, you will repatriate the non-Tokomak populations on your core worlds, providing each of them with enough funds to keep them alive long enough to find a proper job on their new homeworlds. Should they wish to remain, you will pay them decent wages and, if they change their minds later, a starship ticket away from your worlds.